Pulp Noodles Yang Lianshan December 3, 2020
The people regard food as the sky, and eating has always been a crucial and important matter in China.
However, for a long period of time in history, there was no good solution to the problem of food and clothing for the people, let alone the nutrition of food and taste.
Different people divide history into different eras, Lu Xun said that history is divided into an era in which it is impossible to be a stable slave and wants to be a slave, and politicians say that history is an era of ruling the world and chaotic times. Historians say that history was a time when there was porridge to drink and wanted to drink porridge but could not. Thus, the question of eating gave rise to the chants of many poets:
Zhang Zhihe of the Tang Dynasty said in "Fishing Songzi • Egret Flying in Front of Xisai Mountain" that the egret in front of Xisai Mountain flew, and the mandarin fish in peach blossom flowing water was fat. Green straw, green coat, oblique wind and drizzle do not have to return. And Li Shangyin lamented in "The First Eating Bamboo Shoots are in the Seat", the tender buds of incense have just come out of the forest, and the price of Yu Ling is as heavy as gold.
Fan Zhongyan of the Song Dynasty said that people came and went on the river, but they loved the beauty of sea bass. Su Shi said in "Ode to Pork" that the clean washing bell, less water, firewood head smoke flames. When he is self-familiar, he is not urged to urge him, and when the fire is full, he is self-beautiful. Huangzhou good pork, the price is as cheap as dirt. The nobles refuse to eat, the poor do not cook, get up in the morning to play two bowls, and are full of their own family. Su Shi even ate lychees for a lifetime, and his family had to move to Lingnan, eating three hundred lychees a day, and did not quit being a Lingnanian.
On the day of the year, Old Yang Duan sat in front of the computer and typed and wrote a post, because breakfast was early, the stomach launched a complaint, and he grunted and sang away. So Old Yang muttered to himself, not saying that there were people eating in groups and no one working. I can't remember my work, I can't forget my meal.
Old Yang pedaled a little and trotted to the door of the restaurant on the fourth floor, tired, that excited thumping, He Jingzhi's verse blurted out, excited heart Ah Mo want to jump so hard, dust Ah Mo to block the eyes. Old Yang leaned forward, holding the railing, and stood at the entrance of the corridor with a long gasp. After a while, my heart jumped less excitedly, and then I slowly paced the door of the restaurant.
Old Yang held a small iron bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other, and bent down to reach into the white iron bucket containing rice to serve rice. Suddenly, a crisp and pleasant voice sounded in my ears, waiting to read your wonderful text. Old Yang heard that the action of serving rice was immediately frozen there, stopped serving rice, turned his head to look, And Bing Bing brother smiled and groaned with a smile on his face, writing a pulp noodle. Oh, it's Ice Ice Brother, it's not easy to write a pulp noodle, a few thousand words in a while. Then a bowl of pulp noodles was filled, standing in the corridor and whimpering and swallowing, the wind swept through the clouds, and in a moment, a bowl of sour and mellow pulp noodles came to mind, and the memories of the past came to mind, and the memories of the past for the pulp noodles were in the present.
When I was a child, in the 1970s, there was a shortage of food, and the people relied on sweet potatoes to feed themselves. Those mouthfuls of dried sweet potato buns are unforgettable. Sweet potato soup, sweet potato buns, can not live without sweet potatoes. There are also sweet potato shreds, sweet potato chips, and sweet potato bone sweet potato noodles. Steamed into steamed buns, rounded into eggs, under the belly of the acid water constantly line, just want to buy some yeast slices at the hospital. Life is so poor, who has the blessing to taste the pulp noodles. Although it is difficult for a smart woman to cook without rice, a pair of clever hands of the mother can always change the same trick, changing the pattern to change the taste.
On this day, Old Yang, oh, not Old Yang, it was Xiao Yang, carrying a school bag sewn by a piece of flower cloth, and jumped into the house. The bag was put down, and the mother brought a bowl of rice and said, "Son, hungry, hurry up and eat." Xiao Yang stretched out two black hands to take it, and the sour aroma of the pulp noodles came to his nose. So I gulped and drank. Because of the panic of hunger, hunger is the best condiment. The pulp noodles made by my mother are drunk in my mouth, full of afterscent, comparable to the taste of mountains and treasures, monkey head bird's nest, like qiong pulp jade liquid, delicious food. In fact, decades have passed, and now I look back on it, and the pulp noodles made by my mother at that time cannot be said to be authentic pulp noodles. There is no pulp, no noodles rolled out of white noodles, and no sauerkraut or soybean sprouts. The noodles are soybean noodles, mung bean noodles, sweet potato noodles mixed with rolled noodles, vegetables are dried radish leaves, and after the noodles are cooked, they are two fingers wide. The noodles were ready, and my mother just poured a little vinegar. But in the era of monotonous shortage of food, it is very rare to be able to change the taste, and it is naturally delicious to eat, and the taste is very good.
One more thing I remember vividly about noodles is that I was a child. One day, the captain of the production team knocked on a porcelain pot in the village and shouted, eating bitter and sweet rice, each family went to a person, took the pot to the warehouse yard to remember the bitter thought sweet rice. My mother said to me, "Shanna, you go and get the rice, so I took a porcelain pot and went to the warehouse yard of Chuang Ximen Er to receive the bittersweet rice." Walking closer, there was a large cauldron in the courtyard at the entrance of the warehouse, and the steam above the cauldron was steaming, and several people were holding shovels around them, and the iron spoons were busy. The people who received the meal held various bowls and basins in their hands, and stood in line giggling and gossiping. After the rice was ready, the cook held an iron spoon, sat down in the cauldron, scooped a spoonful of bittersweet rice with a thin soup, poured it into the bowl and basin of the person who took the rice, and shouted in his mouth, the next noodle beat, so he beat the rice in turn, and went home with a smile. When it was my turn, I also served the meal, and looked down at the basin, and the rice in the basin could reflect my eyebrows. I thought, huh, huh, you can still look at your face in the mirror, so you have a smile on your face, and while looking curiously, you are walking towards home. When I got home, my mother didn't make lunch, thinking that how much rice was returned, I blocked the lunch, and when I saw the rice bowl I brought back, I smiled and said, I hit back this little bit of thin soup, enough for anyone to drink. Well, I'll hurry up and make lunch, and don't be killed when I come back, Mountain, you take a bowl and drink it. So, I went to the stove and took a porcelain bowl, poured the rice back into the bowl, took it up, put my mouth on the edge of the bowl and drank it, sour, and then looked at the bowl with a few sesame leaves and a few noodles. I drank this beautiful pulp noodle, and I had a strange thought in my heart, this is called pulp noodles, it is too thin, and it is too sour. Or the mother made the pulp noodles.
Time is like a shuttle, the white colt passes through the gap, and the years do not live. As if it is a flick of a finger, the kung fu of blinking, decades can pass away. By the early spring of 2020, the community will be closed due to the covid-19 pandemic. Old Yang thought to himself, living in seclusion at home, lying on the bed and not running around, is to contribute to the country. The rice and noodles stored at home are reduced day by day, and I am worried about what to do when the grain is eaten, and my wife Liang Jinli volunteered to say, Don't worry, I will make you pulp noodles to drink. Old Yang and his son applauded. After a while of kung fu, the wife held a bowl of steaming pulp noodles in both hands and placed it on the table where Lao Yang was sitting. Old Yang didn't say a word, he snorted, ah, the taste was beautiful. Drink a bowl of noodles, sweating profusely, sweating profusely, and very comfortable. Old Yang was sitting at the computer, thinking like a fountain of memories of drinking pulp noodles when the taste was wonderful, and Teacher Lei, who said that he also liked to drink pulp noodles, said that there was a prescription for treating coughs that could not be cured for a long time. Old Yang listened, immediately recorded as follows, a pair of pig loins (the same pig's), three or two black beans, ginger, orange peel each ten grams, add water to cook appropriately, eat meat, eat black beans, eat orange peel, drink soup, one pair to see the effect, two pairs to alleviate, three pairs to heal, four pairs to never commit crimes again, hehehehehe.
Old Yang has not finished recording the inspection formula, Teacher Lei said with a smile on the side, there is also an allusion to drinking pulp noodles, she said, when she was young, and three colleagues and beautiful women shopping, to see the sunset of the west sky quietly faded, the night was four. A few people walked around the street and walked to the door of Nanyang Central Hospital, where there was a special snack, and the pulp noodles were famous far and wide. So I said, let's go shopping and have fun, and then continue the song, each person drinks a bowl of pulp noodles, I invite guests to pay the bill. So a few people sat there, and the boss Ma Li held a bowl of noodles in both hands and placed it on the small table. A few people drank it, and shouted with joy and pleasure. Teacher Lei's eyebrows fluttered as he spoke, and Old Yang snapped and typed.
Typing, it was lunch time again, and Lao Yang went to the restaurant on the fourth floor, wow, and it was pulp noodles again. So Old Yang took a bowl and stood in the corridor in early winter to drink.
It's so delicious noodles that you don't drink a bowl anymore, standing in the hallway pretending to be something. Old Yang looked up, and it was Teacher Lei who was holding a small iron bowl while drinking and saying to Old Yang. So Lao Yang laughed and said, drink well, three bowls are not post, really delicious pulp noodles, do not drink white, do not drink stomach to complain. After saying that, Lao Yang quickly filled a bowl of pulp noodles and stood on the sunny corridor in early winter, relishing the sour and long pulp noodles. The mellow aroma of the pulp noodles that lingered endlessly in the depths of Lao Yang's memory lingered on the tip of Lao Yang's tongue for a long time, in his heart. In the Fourteenth Central Political and Educational Office.